Set Fire to the Rain
by shaye-bay-bay
Summary: AU. Special Agent Finn Hudson has finally gotten a chance to prove himself. But what's the deal with his new "partner", a former Broadway beauty who is clearly harboring a dark secret? And could she be the one thing that could destroy it all?
1. Monday Morning

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee…. Sadly.

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Finn woke up earlier than usual, dragging himself to the bathroom so he could look somewhat presentable for his meeting with the director. He took a quick shower, made sure he was clean-shaven, and did the best he could with his somewhat floppy and uncontrollable hair. In high school, he'd kind of gelled it up in the front, having thought it made him look cool. But now as an adult, Finn felt it made him look juvenile not his age, and he stopped. Of course without the gel, his hair just kind of… hung there limply, a permanent case of bed head. Whatever. He was a guy, it wasn't like he was supposed to waste hours fretting over his appearance like a chick anyways. The boss would know if he'd overdone it this morning, and Finn was pretty sure that looking like he'd tried too hard was almost as bad as appearing like he hadn't tried at all.

It had been nearly five years since Finn had begun working as a field agent for the CIA, and never once had the director asked him to come to his office before now. He'd heard whispers, rumors at best, about how only the elite specialists were ever called into Schuester's office, and when they were it was so he could plop a big, juicy case into their open palms. Finn was itching to get his hands on something huge, so he could finally prove himself as a capable member of the force. He's mainly dealt with small fry before now, building up his rep within the newly established NCS (National Clandestine Service).

He was in the counterterrorism unit, wanting nothing more than to protect his country like his military father before him. And when he'd gotten the job, he'd assumed that meant being the American James Bond, going undercover to fabulous parties thrown by arms dealers and diamond thieves. But no, so far Special Agent Hudson had only been given desk jobs – researching targets, making connections between seemingly unconnected criminal activities, listening to the radio chatter and reading through extremist blogs in search of any valid threats. He'd thought he'd found a few, maybe. But as soon as he reported them to his superiors, the case files would disappear from his desk and the information would be strictly classified to only the highest ranking officials.

In other words? It was gone to someplace he couldn't reach it.

Finn never personally got to see any of his discoveries through until the very end, and after five years of being denied the chance to do so he had been starting to get pretty stir crazy. The thought of quitting had crossed his mind several times, surrendering to a realization that maybe he wasn't as unique and special as his mother had told him he was. So this meeting with Director Schuester could not have come at a better time.

Finn parked his truck in the normal place outside the Langley Headquarters, checking one last time in the review mirror to make sure his tie looked okay before grabbing his briefcase and opening his car door. No sooner had his bulky 6' 3" frame straightened itself out again after being cramped up in the cab of the truck did he hear a shout in his direction.

"Hudson. Dude, the fuck? What happened to you last night?"

Noah Puckerman sauntered over, a look of mixed disgust and confusion painted all over his face. Puck had been Finn's closest friend in the CIA since they were just interns together, fresh out of college and looking to make a difference in the agency. Puck had chosen the counterintelligence route, keeping America's secrets safe from the outside while his buddy sought to steal information from the other side. That's why Finn was convinced he was even remotely successful – Puckerman had shared everything he knew with Finn, and vice versa. Finn knew how to get around encryptions because Puck taught him how to write them, and as a consequence Puck knew what the hackers knew, and could try and safeguard against it.

Basically, they were the perfect team. A team itching to see some action.

"Last night?" Finn questioned, quirking an eyebrow as the two buddies made their way into the office building, producing their clearance badges for the secretary at the door Brittany, even though she knew them both by now.

"Yeah dude. We were going to go cruising for chicks in D.C. You never showed up at the bar!" Puck reminded him, looking like he was genuinely insulted that Finn hadn't wanted to join in on this drunken escapade the night before the biggest career meeting of his life.

But the pathetic thing was, the mystery meeting wasn't even the reason Finn hadn't gone. He hated when Puck dragged him out on those kinds of things, because his friend was always trying to pressure him into taking one of the overzealous D.C single women home with him. But ever since Finn's ex-girlfriend Quinn had cheated on him six months ago, he hadn't really felt like getting back out there in the dating scene. If anything, he felt like crawling into a hole and never dating another woman again. He hated Quinn for what she'd done. Hated that he couldn't trust women anymore, that he felt a hole in his heart when he thought about her.

"Yeah, uhh… Didn't wanna be rusty for my first meeting with Schuester. This could be big stuff, dude." He apologized, but one glance at Puck's face told him that his mohawked friend didn't buy it.

"Whatever, man." Puck quipped as they stepped into the elevator. They both pressed the respective floors they needed, Finn nervously fussing with his tie as the machine jolted into motion. He could all but hear his heart hammering, but his very apparent nerves didn't seem to deter his friend. "But when Schue offers you a promotion or some shit in five minutes, promise me we're going out to celebrate."

"If." Finn clarified, glaring at Puck out of the corner of his eye. "If I get a promotion. I don't know what he wants from me. He didn't say." Puck rolled his eyes at Finn, just as the doors dinged open to the Director's floor.

Finn moved to step out, and was surprised when Puck followed him. A smarmy smirk was painted onto his friend's lips. "Are you kidding me? Like hell I'm letting you walk to this meeting by yourself. Moral support, or … whatever." He trailed off. Finn and Puck made a habit of not being overly dramatic with their friendship; neither one of them was emotional like a girl, but little things like this were enough to remind them of how important they were to each other.

Finn chanced a glance at his best friend, offering him a grateful smile. But his eyebrows raised in confusion, since Puck's eyes were wide and staring into the clear glass door of Schuester's office. He looked like he was staring at the answer to eternal life, or a brand new motorcycle with his name on it. "Holy fuck…" Puck breathed, whistling lowly and shaking his head. "Who in the hell is that?"

Finn turned to look ahead of him into the director's office, and it only took him a fraction of a second to see what Puck was seeing. Because while yes, the elusive Director himself was sitting at the desk in front of them… it was who he was talking to that had seemingly taken both his and Puck's breath away.

It was a woman with flowing brown locks that effortlessly draped across her small shoulders, which were the same shade as coffee with just the right amount of crème, and were seemingly silky smooth. Her flowery red scoop neck top had left that patch of skin exposed, but the long sleeves kept the rest of her upper body covered up. She was lounging on the director's desk, much like an old school jazz singer perched on top of a piano, which caused the hem of her black pencil skirt to hike up just a little bit; nothing indecent, but enough to cause the shit-eating grin to appear on Puck's face. Toned legs flowed from beneath the hem of the skirt and a pair of shockingly red heels swung absentmindedly over the edge of the desk. For her feet not to reach the floor, Finn had to deduce that this woman was pretty short. But the way she was holding herself made her seem larger than life.

Okay, she definitely did not work here. If she did, Finn was sure a beauty like that would not have been a secret. Especially not from a womanizer like Puck.

"Fucking hell, dude. Tell me that's not Schuester's new wife or some shit." Puck all but pleaded. Finn was about to respond when the director looked up from his mirthful conversation with the beautiful stranger, catching Finn's eye and waving him into the room.

"I gotta go…" he choked out, leaving Puck standing in the hallway, his eyes still visibly glazed over as he stared at the woman on the desk. _Great, thanks Puckerman_, he mumbled to himself as he crossed the seemingly endless few steps that remained between him and the office_. Make me more nervous why don't you? _He swallowed hard, steeling his nerves, before twisting the metal doorknob and entering the office.

"Ah, Special Agent Hudson. Just the man we were waiting on." Director Schuester greeted, sending him a small smile as Finn shut the door.

"We, sir?" Finn questioned, even though the answer was pretty obvious; the other half of this 'we' was the woman who was hopping off the edge of the desk, straightening out her skirt with her back still turned to him. Finn had been right – he would be at least a foot taller than this woman if she wasn't wearing heels.

"Hudson, this is Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is Special Agent Finn Hudson."

The woman turned when she heard herself being introduced, and it took every ounce of Finn's self control not to allow his eyes to bug out of their sockets. He was used to "small town" beauties, having grown up in Ohio only to move here to a suburb in Virginia. Southern belles – lithe, graceful women who looked like they should be porcelain dolls. Women like Quinn; blonde hair, blue eyes, delicate features. Nothing striking about them. Just an overall impression of practiced perfection, manicured over years of dedication to an ideal.

This woman… no, this _force _standing in front of him? This was no country darling. Her deep brown eyes smoldered as she looked at him; they were almost twinkling a bit, crackling with a fire that he'd never seen in a woman before. He couldn't see a single trace of makeup on her skin, even though it was glowing. She had her hands resting on her slender hips, and a somewhat playful smile on her lips. She seemed… he couldn't describe it in words. All he knew was that she was definitely not from around here.

The woman, Rachel, walked forward a few steps, raising one hand to tap a finger on her chin thoughtfully. He followed her with his eyes, swallowing hard as she very blatantly scanned him up and down. She took her time walking in a slow circle around him, taking him entirely in as he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The Director merely sat in silence, observing the two of them.

"Uhh…. Sir?" Finn questioned finally as Rachel came around again to his front, folding her arms across her chest and cocking her hip to one side. She narrowed her eyes a bit, before turning back to the Director and opening her mouth for the first time.

"I think I can make this work." She said, her voice wrapping around the room like music. It was not the soft, silver bells tone of Quinn's voice that he'd come to associate with women. It was strong, clear and commanding, like she felt she owned this room, even in the presence of the Director of the CIA.

"Make what work?" Finn asked stupidly, feeling like he was in high school all over and was once again was the last person to get the joke.

"Hudson, you're going undercover." Director Schuester explained, and Finn had to actively stop himself from grinning and doing a victory dance right there in the office. He got a mission! A real mission! "And Ms. Berry here is going to be your acting coach."

Pause…. Wait, what?

"Sir?" Finn questioned, and Rachel smiled a bit before answering the question herself.

"According to Will here," Rachel began, and Finn all but cringed as she used the freaking Director of the CIA's first name like they were old friends. Did this chick know who she was talking to? "While your aptitude for discerning possible threats is extensive, your…. subtly leaves much to be desired and needs to ameliorate before the Agency feels comfortable activating you in the field."

"Ummm…. In English, please?" he asked, his cheeks heating up as he realized that despite his college education at OSU, he hadn't understood half of what had come out of that Rachel girl's mouth.

"You're as discrete as a fireworks display, Hudson." The Director said with a small laugh in his voice, moving some papers around on his desk. "If we sent you out there now, we'd be sending you home to your mother in a body bag within the week."

_Well fuck_. Finn frowned, all the air having been taken out of his sails from the news he was getting an assignment. The Director motioned to Rachel then, who it seemed had never once taken her eyes off of Finn.

"This is why we've brought in Rachel Berry. She's a former Broadway star with an impeccable acting background. She's perfect to coach you on how to behave once you're undercover."

"And, to make sure you don't mess up, guess who is going to be constantly at your side?" Rachel asked with a beaming smile.

Wait… seriously_, what_?

"With all due respect, sir, she's an outsider. How can we be sure we can trust her with such a delicate subject as national security secrets?" Finn questioned, and for the briefest moment saw a flash of sorrow and regret in Rachel's eyes. But like a pro, she brushed it off before Finn could be sure of what he saw, and the Director shook his head.

"Ms. Berry has some very… potent reasons for wanting to do her job properly. Don't you, Rachel?" he asked, and she nodded. Finn wasn't entirely sure he liked this tone the Director had taken on when addressing the girl in front of him. It was… reserved, almost cold. Calculating, like he held a gun to Rachel's head.

"Well then… Rachel, you know the schedule." The Director said, getting up from his desk and motioning to the door, which both Rachel and Finn took as their cue to leave the office. They shuffled out, the awkwardness hanging in the air between them. Once the door shut behind them, Rachel tucked some hair behind her ear and looked up at him. She didn't look like she was going to explain the Director's comments, although Finn was dying to know.

"I'll meet you at the coffee shop on Addison tomorrow at 9 AM to brief you on the assignment and begin our first lesson." She said, but this was a totally new Rachel from the beaming, confident woman he'd seen in the room before Schuester brought up her secret reason for doing this job. She was toned down, maybe a bit shy… but overall this cloud of sadness just seemed to cling to every pore and fiber of her being. It was tragic. Finn's first impulse was to hug her, but fuck, he didn't even know her.

"Uhh….Kay." he muttered stupidly, and Rachel nodded before disappearing down the hall in a swooping flash of red and luscious brown hair.

"Dude… Who is_ that_ and where can I get her digits?" the smarmy voice of Noah Puckerman asked from the waiting area outside the Director's office, and Finn just frowned at him.

"I…. I think that's my new partner."


	2. Manila Envelope

Thanks for the kind words, everyone! I love reviews, they inspire me to keep writing!

Finn stumbled in the door of the coffee shop on Addison at 9:15 the next morning, his hair still damp from his lightning fast shower and his right shoe lace still untied – his stupid alarm clock hadn't gone off when he wanted it to this morning. In fact, it hadn't gone off at all; in an exhaustion induced blunder for the history books, Finn had set his alarm for 8:15 **PM**, not AM. His only saving grace to making it to the meeting just fifteen minutes late had been Puck shooting him a text around 8:50 asking Finn to get the number of his new partner so he could "_have some fun this weekend ;)_"_._

The thought of the likes of Rachel Berry hanging around his notorious womanizer of a best friend made Finn's stomach churn uncomfortably. He'd gone straight home from work yesterday, ignoring Puck's seemingly daily request to come out with him to the city, and set himself about the task of doing his research. Rachel seemed to know more about him than he did about her, and he intended to level the playing field as much as possible. After all, what kind of responsible field agent would he be if he hadn't made sure to do the proper background checks before running in guns blazing? Guys had gotten themselves killed for less stupid things.

Finn had known from the brief meeting in the Director's office that Rachel had to be talented, but his simple google search for her name had turned up much more than he'd been expecting. She had 3 Tony awards, all won before she was 25 years old… hell, she'd gotten her first at just 19 years of age for Best Actress in a Supporting Role her portrayal as Eponine in the revival of Les Miserables. Finn wasn't a big musicals fan, that was more his step-brother Kurt's territory, but even _he _knew the name of that show. Endless pages of glowing reviews for her turns in a list of shows so long it made Finn's head spin. Pictures of her accepting awards in stunning, flowing gowns and singing in front of sold out crowds made his encounter with her in the office yesterday seem less and less real.

How in the hell had he gotten so close to someone like her? She was… a superstar.

So what the hell was she doing working for the CIA?

Finn hadn't been able to find any clues to it online – every search he did for her activities within the last two years had turned up empty. Sure a few tabloid pages came up with question marks about her whereabouts, but they weren't extensive reports. Just a blurb here or there, the odd socialite page in New York magazines. It wasn't like Rachel was a movie star, after all; Broadway darlings hardly ever got the same degree of media attention when they went AWOL in the middle of a hot career.

Unsatisfied and perplexed by the sheer lack of information, Finn picked up his cell phone and dialed the third person on his speed dial, drumming his fingers impatiently on his desk as it rang.

"Kurt Hummel." The absentminded and eerily high pitched for a man's voice answered. Finn could hear the chatter of Kurt's assistants in the background, as well as the hum of several sewing machines moving at once – his step brother was in the middle of launching his debut collection for his fashion line, and was probably highly annoyed that Finn was tearing him away from his life's work.

"Hey dude, it's me. I have a question… about Broadway." Finn said, obviously cringing as he forced the 'B' word out of his mouth. He'd always tuned his brother out whenever he brought up musical theater around the house as they were going through high school and college. After all, sequins and spot lights were _so _not his thing. And it wasn't like now he'd changed his mind… but still. Maybe if he'd listened once or twice, this Rachel thing wouldn't be that much of a mystery.

"Ooo, bien sur mon frère, fire away." Kurt said instantly, and it was like Finn could hear the sparkles that had lit up in his brother's eyes over the phone.

"Dude, if we're going to do this… no French." Finn replied instantly, trying to keep his voice even. God, he was really going to regret opening this can of worms with Kurt, wasn't he? Eh, fuck it. His brother had a memory for Broadway legends unlike anyone Finn had ever met – if he was going to get any leads at all on Rachel, Kurt was going to be it.

"Right… of course. What can I help you with?" Kurt said, his excitement severely diminished. But it wasn't like toning down his eccentricity was going to keep the likes of Kurt Hummel from discussing his second favorite thing, besides fashion.

"Have you ever heard of a girl named Rachel Berry?" Finn asked, clicking through several more pictures of the brunette beauty on his laptop. She was beaming in all of them, waving to the crowds with a megawatt smile just like the one she'd used as she introduced herself yesterday.

"_Heard of her_? Finn, she was like, the next Barbra Streisand!" Kurt said, his voice raising in volume a bit. "I saw her live four years ago in Spring Awakening – absolutely flawless. I cried. _Cried_, Finn. _In public_. Gosh, what a talent. It's such a shame…"

Finn bristled in his chair. He sat up a bit more, his eyes squinting at the mirthful Rachel Berry accepting her third Tony. "…She _was_ the next… whoever you said?" Finn asked. "What happened?"

Kurt sighed a bit, and Finn was willing to put money and the fact that his step-brother was shaking his head on the other end of the phone. "Who knows? Her career was incredible, Finn, it had so much promise. She was getting all these amazing roles, and people were really starting to pay attention to her. She was totally in love with her Wicked co-star, Jesse St. James; they were living in this absolutely darling little townhouse in New York together. Too adorable. Oh my god, I was totally convinced they were going to get married. Can you imagine how ridiculously talented their kids could be? Oh, and they'd be this adorable family like the Von Traps from Sound of Music, and all perform together, and tour the world, and -"

Kurt was ranting, and Finn cleared his throat to remind his brother to focus. "Right. Well, anyways, she was all lined up to play Maria in West Side Story two years ago… and then she just kind of vanished. Poof. Overnight she was just… gone."

"Gone?" Finn questioned, the blood in his veins turning cold. Obviously, he knew that Rachel was fine. He'd just seen her yesterday, and there didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with her. With the exception of that ominous cloud of sadness that he'd gotten a few glimpses of, if he didn't know any better he'd say Rachel was totally fine…. So why had she run?

"Yeah, gone." Kurt repeated. "Jesse too. I heard from some friends in New York that the two of them missed a performance of Wicked, and when the director sent an assistant stage manager to investigate, he found their apartment just… empty. Like they'd packed up and left." Kurt sighed. "God, it's terrible. Jesse was talented, sure, but… it was such a blow to Broadway to lose Rachel. She was always the brighter burning star of the two of them. What a voice." Kurt said, his voice getting all dreamy.

"Do you know anything else?" Finn pressed, biting his lower lip in anticipation.

"No… Why the sudden interest in an old story, Finn? No one has brought up the Rachel Berry story in years." Kurt questioned, and Finn felt his cheeks go hot.

"Oh, umm… no reason. Celebrity crush. Or a neighbor looks like her. Or something. I gotta go. Thanks, bro." Finn said hastily, and clicked his cell phone shut. Well, that had been less from graceful. Maybe he really _did _need Rachel as an acting coach – he was screwed if he couldn't even lie casually to his brother over the phone, let alone a member of a gang right to their face.

Finn scrolled through a few more pictures of Rachel, Kurt's pretty ominous telling of Rachel's story still echoing in his head. But something else his brother had said also stuck with him… and prompted him to click open the first Youtube link that came up under her name. A Tony Awards performance of her with her cast from Wicked; the video description said it was the last recorded performance of the brunette, and was posted as a dedication to her memory and legacy of greatness.

_God damn. It's like her fans think she's dead…_ Finn thought to himself as he waited for it to load. And was that such a stretch? He had to admit, with a sketchy disappearance like that one of someone who had made no indication they wanted to leave…it was only logical to assume the worst. All the comments on the video were discussing how much they missed her. Even a few included an 'RIP', as if they were convinced she was gone. He almost felt guilty, knowing these people who loved her and revered her thought she was gone forever, when he was getting coffee with her in the morning.

When the video loaded, Finn turned up the volume of his speakers and sat back. Rachel was standing in the middle of the stage with a blonde co-star that for a millisecond reminded Finn of Quinn; Rachel's face was covered in some kind of green paint to make her look like the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz, but Finn recognized her right away. The opening chords of the song played, and Finn thought he recognized them. His brother had sung along to the soundtrack a lot when they were in high school, and Finn remembered this one as being kind of a 'power ballad', if he could use rock terms to describe musicals. Defying Gravity.

Finn didn't know what he'd been expecting to hear when the small girl opened her mouth, given how celebrated of a performer she was. But whatever he'd thought he was going to hear, the performance far surpassed all of his expectations. He couldn't believe the power of the voice coming out of such a small body. Her voice was clear as a bell, and seemingly performed vocal acrobatics with ease. He'd never in his life heard a voice quite like this. It poured out of the speakers and wrapped around him. Her voice was a siren's call, pulling him in so much that he subconsciously leaned in towards the screen. Finn was completely captivated, and when she hit that final, incredible note he had to sit back heavily and catch his breath.

_**Holy. Shit.**_

Finn stayed up half the night watching videos of her performances and acceptance speeches, no longer with the objective eye of a researcher… but more like a fan. A big fan. He shamelessly allowed chills to run up and down his spine as 19 year old Rachel belted On my Own, and felt his heart reach out to 24 year old Rachel as she softly sang I'm Not That Girl. And when he finally dragged himself to bed way too late that night, setting his alarm clock to the wrong time, the haunting memory of Rachel's voice had lulled him to sleep.

Needless to say, after those hours of research, walking in to the coffee shop to see Rachel sitting near the back with a mug clasped in her dainty hands felt like a totally different experience from the day before. Yesterday she'd been just a woman the CIA had assigned to help him. Today… she was like someone back from the dead. Sitting primly in the booth, a light blue scarf wrapped around her neck on top of a plain white sweater, paired with an ordinary black skirt, she didn't look anything like the glamorous star dripping in silk and diamonds he'd seen pictures of. And yet, that Rachel Berry and this one were one in the same.

"Sorry. Alarm didn't go off." He apologized as he reached her, pulling out the chair across from her to sit down. She offered him a light smile, shaking her head.

"Don't worry about it. I haven't been here that long." She assured him, clearly back to being 'carefree Rachel' today, not letting him see that vulnerable side of her again. She took a sip of her mug (which he could now see was filled with green tea) before sliding a manila envelope across the table to him. "Here. It's your assignment."

"Our assignment." Finn corrected, taking it from her. Rachel's eyebrows shot up, and he coughed a bit to hide his sudden awkwardness, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean… you said you were coming with me, right?" he clarified, which made Rachel nod. "Yeah, so… _our_ assignment." He repeated.

To his great relief, that made Rachel smile. The bright, dazzling smile he'd seen on her face in the videos of her curtain calls, and as she accepted each of her Tony Awards. "Open it." Rachel instructed, watching him as if he was a kid on Christmas, and Rachel already knew the toy he most wanted was inside the box. He grinned at her sheepishly before breaking the seal on the envelope and reaching inside. He produced a thick, bound packet with a CIA seal on the outside, CLASSFIED stamped underneath it.

"You've read this?" Finn asked, thumbing through the hundreds of pages. She shook her head no, one hand idly playing with her hair as the other kept a grip on her mug.

"No. Will gave me the CliffNotes version though, before you got there yesterday." She shrugged. Finn nodded, before putting the massive volume down on the table between them. "What, you're not going to read it? Aren't you excited?" she asked him, sounding confused.

"Yeah, but… can I ask you something first?" Finn asked, which made Rachel sit back a bit in confusion.

"Umm… I guess so. What is it?"

Finn had to play this one carefully. If he asked something too direct, he might ruin his changes of her ever opening up to him. But if he didn't start getting her to trust him, he might never get it out of her anyways because they'd be strangers. "Why are you coming with me?" he settled for asking, which made Rachel smile a little bit as she absentmindedly dunked her tea bag in and out of the steaming water.

"They needed someone convincing to play your wife."

"_Wife?"_ Finn choked, feeling his cheeks start burning.

"Yeah." Rachel said, and it was clear from the tone of her answer that he was the only one mildly terrified by this prospect. "None of the agents in your department… how do I say this…. Fit the bill." She decided on, leaning in a little closer, which of course made him lean in too. "Will picked me because my small stature and affinity for animal print sweaters makes me give off a powerful aura of innocence… and you're going to need that if you're not to be suspected. You need to not be a threat, and having me will offset your physical prowess and make you appear much more… gentle." Rachel explained, before sitting back again.

"Oh," was all Finn could manage to reply with, nodding his head. He had to admit, that kind of made sense. "So… you're my wife." He clarified. Rachel nodded, smiling a bit.

"Janet Campbell, at your service."

"What's my name?" Finn asked, picking up his booklet and trying to leaf through it to find their cover story.

"Brad." She said without missing a beat, watching as he flipped open to the page explaining their back stories. "We met three years ago at a bowling alley. Fell in love instantly, got married a year later. Just moved so you can start your job working as the consultant to the American market."

"American market for what?"

"Weapons." Rachel said, as if the word tasted funny in her mouth. Finn's eyes bugged out of his head.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel sighed, pointing at the packet. "It's all in here, you know. You could read it." But at the impatient expression on Finn's face, Rachel's annoyance dropped and she beckoned him to lean in close. He did; hell, she didn't need to prompt him. He was drawn to her. "… There have apparently been whispers about a massive, illegal arms deal between some upper level executives in the company and a terrorist outfit sometime in the next few weeks. Some assault riffles, missiles, air strike capabilities…All under the table, it's not officially sanctioned at all. You're going to find out if its true, and if it is…stop it."

"…What company?"

"BAE Systems." Rachel said simply, and Finn sat back. He knew that name…

"We're going to England?"

"We're going to England." Rachel replied, lifting her mug in a toast before downing the rest of her tea.


	3. Love, Save the Empty

Thank you guys SO much for the sweet reviews! I love writing for y'all!

Chapter 3: Love, Save the Empty

"Dude, I'm so not kidding anymore. Get out of here." Finn snapped, tossing Puck's jacket at him from across the room and thumbing towards the door. His best friend just shook his head, and draped the Adidas athletic jacket across the back of a chair before sinking down into it, kicking up his feet on the coffee table, which probably deposited all kinds of Virginia dirt onto the varnish.

"Like hell I will. That hot mystery babe is coming over. I need to get my _introduction _on." He said, and Finn could literally feel Puck's sexual innuendo hanging in the air between them. He growled a bit to himself in response, still picking up the stray pieces of clothing and trash that laid strewn across the apartment. If you asked him, he'd say that he was cleaning up for Rachel because his mother had always drilled nice manners into him, and when you have a guest over your place should be presentable.

But really, he knew deep down that he was fussing so much because he wanted Rachel to be impressed by his place. I mean, come on, she was a celebrity. She'd probably lived in really nice places before, and been surrounded by all the finer things in life. And so while Finn wasn't exactly swimming in cash… he didn't want her to look down on him, or think less of him because he just couldn't afford a nicer place or better furniture.

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit hard on himself. For being a bachelor in Virginia, Finn had a pretty decent place to himself. It was a spacious apartment over the local bookstore (not that Finn ever went to it), with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room. He had his own washing machine and dryer, a dishwasher, and even cable TV installed. It was more than most single guys his age could boast. Hell, it was more than Puckerman had. He was living in a house in the poorer part of town with three other guys from the office, so they could split the minimal rent.

Finn had always thought Puck's set-up had a … collegiate feel to it, more than being an adult in the real world. His friend certainly _acted _like he was still the head hauncho University of Michigan frat boy he'd once been, bringing home bimbos at all hours to use and then lose. Finn had never been that guy, by contrast. Sure, he'd been a frat guy at OSU, what football player wasn't? But after only a few weeks of trying out the "new weekend, new girl" approach, he'd found out it really wasn't for him. Not that girls weren't lining up to get at the new quarterback, they were. Finn just wasn't sure he was comfortable with the whole idea.

It wasn't manly or anything, but after Finn had lost his virginity to some bimbo cheerleader in high school on a whim… he'd always regretted not having it mean anything. He was more the type of guy who wanted to get to know the girl first, make a connection so that the first time they were together could be more than just the physical stuff. He liked carrying the picture of his girlfriend in his wallet. And he liked the feeling of having someone who would drop everything to be with him if he needed her. He liked being needed. He was a good guy, you know? Maybe a bit slow at times, but he was genuine. Things mattered to him more than they did to most guys. He was the kind of guy girls brought home to their mothers for Christmas.

_The kind of guy who would be good for a girl like Rachel._

Okay what the fuck, where had **that** come from? Finn paused, his hand hovering over a piece of mail that had fallen off the kitchen counter and onto the floor. He shook his head, trying to physically shake the thought out of his mind. Spy protocol about not dating your partner aside… who was he even kidding? Rachel was beautiful, successful, and (from what he could tell from their two encounters) had this incredible enthusiasm for life. And he was just an ex-college athlete getting his first break. She'd been taking the Broadway world by storm when Finn was taking the SATs. Rachel had been polishing her second Tony Award when Finn was just a lowly CIA intern. Rachel had been living in the heart of New York City with someone she'd loved very deeply while Finn was sleeping in the back of his truck, waiting for the lease on his apartment to start.

Maybe that was a part of it too… The whole Jesse thing. Finn hadn't brought it up with Rachel at the coffee shop; actually, he hadn't let on at all that he had any clue who she was. But things had been good between them like that, and forgive him for wanting to live in the "she's just a girl, I'm just a guy" fantasy for a while longer. But he knew it wasn't that simple. Even if it was kind of a kick to the balls to admit, he knew Jesse was somehow involved in that dark cloud of pain he had seen flitter across Rachel's eyes that first day in the office. People don't just fall off the face of the Earth together like that, only to resurface alone unless something had gone horribly wrong. His heart really went out to her, and he wanted to do anything he could to help her get through what had happened…

But that was going to require that he tell Rachel that he knew about her past, and would then rest on her decision to trust him or not. Maybe she wouldn't want to open up, or she couldn't… something. There were just too many complexities hanging in the air for him to want to deal with any of them right this minute – for now, he had to focus on cleaning the apartment so it was presentable when Rachel arrived for their first acting lesson.

Finn picked up the piece of mail finally, placing it neatly back on the stack on the counter before heading into the pantry to find the green tea he'd purchased yesterday. His mom had always said it was nice to have drinks on hand for guests, and since he didn't know what else she liked he'd gone off what she'd been drinking at the coffee shop. He was just closing the door and turning on the stovetop for the kettle when he heard it.

"Hey there little lady… Name's Puck. You must be the beautiful and talented Rachel that Finnessa has been keeping hidden the last few days."

Oh fuck. Oh god no, this wasn't happening. This was exactly the fate he'd been trying to avoid by attempting to kick Puck out of the apartment earlier. Finn's stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought of Rachel standing in the other room with his lecherous best friend leering at her like she was a sack of meat and not a person. No, this was wrong. It was all wrong. Like hell if Puckerman was going to get a shot at someone as amazing as Rachel, under Finn's god damn roof no less. Fuck no. Rachel didn't belong with him. She was better than him. She deserved more than him…

"That's very sweet of you to say… Puck, was it?" he could hear her clear voice answering, and he almost gagged when he heard a bit of her melodious laugh beneath her words. He was going to kill Puck.

"Short for Puckerman. Noah Puckerman." The introduction continued, and Finn was 90% sure that his friend was leaning against the door jam, turning on every ounce of cool he thought he had in his body. After all, to him Rachel was just a pretty face. He couldn't possibly know about what a shining star she was to the rest of the world… and to Finn.

"Puck… are you anything like the Shakespearian character?" Rachel asked in her usual tone of voice, and when her question was met with a confused silence from both Puck and hidden Finn, she let out a small laugh. "Always a trickster, never to be trusted. Likes to meddle in other peoples' lives and toy with their emotions." She explained, and Finn almost laughed out loud. That sounded like his buddy, alright.

"Nah, that ain't me. I'm real sensitive when it comes to women, and I hate when people play games with each other romantically and socially… you'll see."

_What? _Finn's jaw was hanging open in disgust; hearing about the lies Puck told girls was one thing, but actually being present when he was pulling a fast one was nauseating. Especially since the poor victim was Rachel.

She laughed, and when she spoke there was a hint of playfulness to her voice. "Is that right? Do you plan on being around often before Finn and I leave to prove that to me?"

"Baby, if you want me, I'll be here every day."

Finn couldn't take it anymore, and abruptly stepped out from the kitchen into the main room with the grace of a gorilla. "Rachel, hi." He greeted, attempting to sound as casual as possible, and like he hadn't been listening to their conversation that entire time. Today she was wearing some sensible silver flats with a bright yellow dress, which only seemed to make the warm undertones in her skin that much more noticeable. She had a navy blue wool coat slung over one arm, which she'd clearly just taken off.

Rachel and Puck had been standing too close together in the doorway for his tastes, but his heart thudded once loudly when she turned and gave him that award-winning smile. "Finn, there you are! When you didn't answer the door I was starting to wonder if I'd gotten the wrong address."

"Nope, this is _my_ place alright." Finn said, emphasizing subtly the fact that his stupid friend didn't actually live here and should be leaving as he stepped around the couch to take her coat from her. She handed it over with a grateful smile, and Finn carefully hung it up in the closet next to the door. "Can I get you tea, or something?"

"How thoughtful… thanks, I'd love some." Rachel said with a grin, just as the kettle began whistling in the other room. She cocked her head to the side, a small laugh emitting from her mouth. "…Did you know I was going to say yes or something?"

Finn blushed at being caught in the act, but then cleared his throat and shook his head. "What? Oh, no. I uhh… was making some for myself. I love tea." He said in an incredibly awkward and forced voice. Truth be told, he'd never had tea a day in his damn life. He was the worst liar ever.

"Me too."

_What the fuck_, Puckerman was still here? Finn shot a glare over at his best friend when he spoke up again, his eyes narrowing at the way Puck had just shut the door and sat down on the couch like he owned the place. He even patted the space next to him suggestively, indicating he wanted Rachel to sit down. She gave him a once over with her eyes, and then chose to sit on the couch opposite him.

_Haha. Jackass._ Finn thought triumphantly to himself as he waltzed into the kitchen. He didn't really understand why he was so possessive of Rachel all of a sudden – he tried to write it off as already stepping into his assumed role as her husband… but he knew it all stemmed from his very real attraction to her, which had awoken within him the moment he heard her sing. And he'd be damned if Noah Puckerman laid so much as a finger on her.

He (grudgingly) poured the three cups of hot water and inserted the tea bags before returning to the living room. He roughly gave Puck his, but was much more delicate with Rachel, who smiled in gratitude as he sank down on the couch next to her. Finn could practically see Puck seething with envy, and Finn subtly moved closer to Rachel on the couch. When she didn't shy away from it, he grinned like an idiot and raised his eyebrows in a challenge to his friend.

"So B… Can I call you B?" Puck asked, which Rachel seemed to momentarily take a moment to think over before slowly nodding her agreement. "What's your dealio-yo? What's a fine woman such as yourself doing in Virgin-i-a?"

The awkward and oppressing silence that met that question was stifling. All the wind had been seemingly knocked out of Rachel, forcing her to put her cup down on the coffee table in front of her. Out of the corner of his eyes, Finn could see that Rachel's hands had started shaking. He put his own mug down in alarm, forgetting his stupid competition with Puck and instinctively put a hand on her shoulder blades.

"Rachel? Are you okay?" he asked in as soothing and comforting a voice as he could manage, ducking his head down to force her eyes to meet his. When they did, he saw that same sadness from the day they'd met in her chocolate brown eyes… and a hint of fear too. She subtly shook her head no, only enough that he could see it, and in that moment Overprotective Finn had had enough of his idiotic friend.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't his fault. Totally normal question to ask a stranger, in reality. But this was Rachel, and if Puck knew even half of what Finn knew (and he barely knew anything), he would have had the common sense to keep his mouth shut.

"Okay, Puck get out. We have to work." Finn barked, not taking no for an answer this time as he got up and physically dragged his friend to the door.

"Dude, not cool. You're totally using your in with her to force me out. Cheater. Totally not following Bro Code of Equal Footing when it comes to regulation hotties!" Puck hissed in protest, struggling against the grip.

"Out. Now." Finn just said in response, pushing his friend out the door and locking it with a heavy sigh. He stood there for a moment, collecting himself, before turning back around bashfully. Rachel seemed to have relaxed a bit now that they were alone; at least the tension in her stance was gone. But that impenetrable sorrow and grief about her was just more obvious without Puck clouding up the room with his sleaze. "I'm sorry about him… He's my friend but… yeah, sorry." Finn apologized lamely.

"….No. It's fine." Rachel sighed, swallowing thickly and shrugging her shoulders a bit. "Any normal person could have answered that question, I just…" she cut herself off, seemingly searching for the right words, but finding none.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want." Finn said, crossing back over to her side and sitting down with her on the couch. Just like before, she didn't move away from his proximity. "Not if it's too… hard. I mean, I don't even know what's going on with you, but… You seem so strong, Rachel. And for something to bring you down this much, just… It has to be bad. And difficult to talk about. So it's like… cool, if you can't." Finn offered lamely, feeling like the world's prize idiot. Had that speech even made sense? Man, he was really not good with this emotional crap. Maybe he needed lessons in more than just acting.

But too his surprise, Rachel leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him to her in a hug. Not a friendly hug, or even a romantic one… it felt _needy. _Like he was a lifeline she was clinging to, the last bit of glue holding her together. Finn wrapped his arms around her waist in return, holding her as tightly as she needed while she just breathed against him for a while. He could feel her heart beat drumming against his chest, and heard her breath go in and out. She was so tiny and fragile, and yet she seemed to fit perfectly right into his long arms.

After what felt like an eternity (and yet a millisecond all at the same time), Rachel pulled back. Some of the pain had receded from her eyes, and she was managing a ghost of a smile. "… Someday, okay?" She said in a quiet voice, swallowing again. "I'll tell you someday…. I really can't right now. But… when I feel like I can, you'll be the first to know."

"… Okay." He said in return, simply because he had no idea what else would have been appropriate. But as much as it killed him to see Rachel like this, a small bubble of happiness had started to grow in the pit of his stomach. Rachel trusted him. Rachel was going to confide in him. Rachel… needed him? Okay, maybe that last one was a stretch, but he'd like to believe it.

Rachel took a sip of her tea, and then licked her lips before smiling for real this time and getting up off the couch. "Right. So, the basics of acting…."


End file.
